


holding onto you for dear life

by wearecities (falsetto)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:21:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsetto/pseuds/wearecities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill: Lilo teen runaways.</p><p>"Hey.” Louis soothes, catches Liam as he starts to crumble. It’s a reminder of how much Liam’s shot up in the past few months that Louis has to get on his tiptoes to bundle him in, that even their diet of beans and toast and reduced sandwiches Louis had to swap the labels for in Tesco can’t stop the way Liam’s filling out, broadening, growing taller. Soon they won’t be able to share as many clothes and Liam’s legs will hang off the edge of their shitty sofa bed and Louis will have to work extra shifts to just afford a pair of jeans that fit him properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding onto you for dear life

**Author's Note:**

> this was essentially meant to be a three sentence prompt fill for "lilo teen runaways" over at tumblr, based on some inane rambling i'd spewed a while ago. but it got a little out of hand. title comes from [sink or swim](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVbsh6LHF2U) by lewis watson which is maybe a lil soundtrack for this. thank you to the lovely [jamie](http://flowersmaywilt.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing <3

It’s freezing when Louis finally gets in, probably even colder than the arctic conditions on the streets of Edinburgh. Despite the fact that Louis has three jumpers on and an extra pair of socks, it does nothing to mask the sweeping coldness of the front entrance of their creaky tower of flats. His clothes are pretty much threadbare now, anyway, passed between him and Liam so constantly that they’re stretched out, hanging off his small frame now that he’s even thinner than before.

They can barely afford the flat itself, not that it’s some sort of luxurious palace-- nothing but a single living room/bedroom, a joke of a kitchen and a bathroom so small you can take a piss and wash your hair at the same time-- so heating and pretty much all unnecessary electrics are off the table. That’s why when Louis finally manages to wrestle the lock closed, a twist and push and then a full bodied yank at the key until it dislodges itself, he’s instantly worried to see the room, lit by a single lamp, completely empty. The sofa bed’s still pulled out, cover strewn on the floor with a bowl of unfinished cereal balancing precariously on the arm. He drops his keys on the wonky table, trying to pull off his layers as he starts towards the kitchen. 

“Liam?” He calls out, voice falling dead against the grotty, damp walls. “Li, you there?” 

There’s a clatter before the kitchen door, already hanging off the hinges, swings open, Liam stumbling through. Before Louis can even get a joke out about Liam breaking all their fine paper plates, Liam’s rushing towards him, face like thunder but there’s wet on his cheeks, hair in disarray and his lip clamped between his teeth.

“Woah, woah.” Louis yelps, tries to steady himself before the force of Liam knocks them both over, but the wall hits his back before he can even reach for something nearer. With a hand fisted in his half done up coat, Liam crowds him against the wall, face so close Louis can see every line of anger on his face. His hands are trembling, shaking so hard that the buttons on Louis’ coat rattle. 

“You said you’d be home at six,” Liam says, although it comes out more like a gasp, like he can’t find his breath. The panic settles in Louis’ stomach and his face softens, pulling his hands out from where they’re pressed between his and Liam’s bodies. It’s way past six now, bordering on half 12 and Louis should’ve known, really. Should’ve known that Liam would worry, still barely capable of handling the hours Louis _has_ to leave him. “You said you’d be home at six,” he repeats, voice still just on the edge of cracking, giving way to the the tremble of his lips. “I was waiting-- I thought-- thought that you’d--”

“Hey.” Louis soothes, catches Liam as he starts to crumble. It’s a reminder of how much Liam’s shot up in the past few months that Louis has to get on his tiptoes to bundle him in, that even their diet of beans and toast and reduced sandwiches Louis had to swap the labels for in Tesco can’t stop the way Liam’s filling out, broadening, growing taller. Soon they won’t be able to share as many clothes and Liam’s legs will hang off the edge of their shitty sofa bed and Louis will have to work extra shifts to just afford a pair of jeans that fit him properly. Louis’ hand barely spans his back as he runs the flat of his palm down it, trying to work through the tense line of his shoulders pressing together. “Liam, I’m sorry. Should’ve thought--” 

“I even went downstairs.” Liam cuts him off by tugging at his clothes again, fists curled so tight and the wet on his cheeks drips down onto Louis’ neck. “Thought ‘bout coming to see you but you have the flat key. Borrowed Mrs Barclay’s phone-- tried to-- but your phone went straight to voicemail.” 

“Fuck. Got abit carried away with Candy Crush on my break.” Louis manages, thoughts on the cracked and half broken two year old iPhone at the bottom of his bag, the only real present he’d ever received on his birthday. He’s trying to lighten the mood even though he feels like there are hands curled around his lungs, trying to pull all the air out with just a glance at the hurt expression on Liam’s face, the fact he’s the one that made Liam feel like that. Liam lets out something akin to a laugh, though, just for a second before it turns into another wracking sob.

“I thought-- Maybe. I thought something had happened or that maybe you’d--” The sentence hangs in the air, the unsaid ‘ _left me_ ’, probably an added ‘ _finally_ ’ hits Louis and his chest tightens, pulling Liam closer, if possible. 

The entirety of Liam’s weight has Louis’ knees buckling, sinking down until he’s sat on the floor, knees spread with Liam still a dead weight between them.

“Liam, hey. Listen to me.” Cupping Liam’s face in his hands, fingers framing the sharpening cut of his jaw, he brings their faces level. Liam’s face is a mess, puffy eyed, red and blotchy. But Louis has seen him worse, he’s seen him split-lipped and black-eyed and completely shattered through. He thumbs away the tears as best as he can, pulls his sleeve over his hand to rub under Liam’s nose and Liam shies away, ducking his head and biting his lip. “I just picked up a few more hours at work, okay? Lily called in sick and I was free. I should’ve called, should’ve run home to tell you but I was busy. I got caught up. I’m so sorry, Li. Won’t happen again, promise.”

And that’s something Louis had to pick up over these months, being less stubborn and closed off but his sincerity still catches Liam off-guard, has him hiccuping and a flush spreading across his cheeks. 

“Never leave you, Li.” Louis continues, thumbs away another stray tear, finding it hard to shut himself off now that he’s started. “Even when I die. I’ll come back as a ghost and follow you round.”

“Don’t say that,” Liam says through another hiccup, but his muscles feel looser, eyes less wet and the corners of his mouth are starting to turn up.

They sit in silence for a second, the occasional quiet sniffle coming from Liam as he rubs the back of his hand over his eyes, rubbing them raw. Louis catches his fingers in his own, wraps them together so Liam can’t do any more damage. He feels stupid for letting it get this far, it’s not the first time he’s been later but he’s always managed to call or somehow just let Liam know, the thought of Liam sat up and staring at the door a constant reminder. But work had been a mess, unfairly busy for a Thursday night and he hadn’t even had time to eat. 

He hums a quiet tune, hands still linked with Liam’s as Liam shuffles closer, presses his forehead against Louis’ shoulder to try and steady his breath. It’s bad but sometimes Louis forgets where they came from, that leaving without a moment’s notice is usual, that being abandoned isn’t something to stay focused on for too long. He hopes he’s made it better for Liam, now, but obviously the few remains of their past still follow them, still have Liam flinching every time a door slams too hard or Louis shutting off whenever someone looks just on the edge of pissed off at him.

“Oh, almost forgot.” Louis startles, breaking the silence and glancing at his bag left over at the door. “Got you something.”

“ _Louis._ ” 

“Liam, shut up.” It’s a testament to how much Liam has become accustomed to Louis that he doesn’t even bat an eye, his smile widens if anything and his watery, bloodshot eyes light up. “We’re not going to go bankrupt because of one thing. Someone left it at the shop, anyway, been waiting two weeks to get it from lost and found.” Louis pauses for a second. “Right, get in bed and I’ll grab it.” 

With a moment of hesitation, Liam manages to push himself off the floor, Louis following soon after, shaking the numbness out of his legs. Grabbing his bag he makes his way over to their makeshift bed, every cheap duvet they could buy bundled on top of it to soften the poke of the protruding springs and sharp corners of the sofa cushions. Liam’s sat crosslegged on his side of the bed, a mountain of flattened pillows behind him and his favourite blanket, one of the few belongings they still have from home, draped over his legs. 

“It’s not much,” Louis begins, once he’s sat opposite Liam and started to rummage through the bag, empty crisp packets and biscuit crumbs scattering as he feels the edges of the object against his fingertips. And It isn’t much, really, just an old Batman comic someone had left behind on the table after their lunch. Louis had saved it from a slowly growing pool of coffee, tried to hide it from Agnes before she forced him to put it into safe keeping but had ultimately failed. She’d sighed, patting him on the back and told him the customary ‘ _two weeks_ ’ speech, the one he’d received a couple days ago about a brand new pair of gloves which, unfortunately, had eventually been claimed. 

Liam lights up instantly, though, catches sight of the front cover as soon as it leaves the confines of Louis’ bag and he reaches for it, gently pulls it out of Louis’ hands and into his own lap, thumbing back the curled corners of the pages. It’s probably not even a proper copy, Louis doesn’t really know anything about comics but he’d seen a small stack of them in Liam’s room, ones he’d managed to save up for with his scraps of pocket money. He hadn’t managed to bring them with him, though, when they’d run away, had just glanced back forlornly at them when Louis tugged at his sleeve, whispered impatiently ‘ _c’mon, Li. We’ve got to leave._ ’

Liam’s silent as he flips it over in his hands, eyes roaming over the back before he shuffles forward, placing the comic to the side, next to his pile of things on the crooked coffee table, before leaning forward. 

And then he’s kissing him. 

It’s not soft or sweet or tender, not like the ones they give each other as ‘ _see you laters_ ’ or ‘ _goodnight_ ’. It’s harsh and biting like the cold on Louis fingertips or the landlord after they got evicted from their third rundown flat or his step dad’s vicious words the day Louis shoved his life into a tiny rucksack and climbed the overgrown tree to Liam’s window. Louis tries to slow it down, tries to soften it with a hand curled around the back of Liam’s neck, but Liam’s not having any of it, tiny desperate noises leaving the back of his throat as he crowd Louis in, crawls up the bed on his knees and has Louis falling back to rest on the arm, shoulder hitting the forgotten bowl of cereal resting there, sending it to the floor with a clatter.

“Whoops,” Louis says when he pulls back with a start, glances over the edge of the sofa to look at the mess but Liam’s giggling into his neck, nosing at the scruff there. That’s what Louis loves, that even if it’s dark or cold or the leak in the ceiling is at a steady drip, there’s always laughter filling the room, always Liam bright eyed and grinning even when he’s only had two bits of pizza for dinner and hasn’t had a hot shower in weeks. 

“Whoops,” Liam mirrors through a giggle and Louis turns his head back to him, finally takes in how they’ve ended up. He’s flat on his back now, head nearly hanging off the edge of the sofa with Liam between his bent legs, holding himself up so easily above Louis. 

Louis feels so small, so completely crowded in that it throws him off a little, has his breath stuttering, laughter dying in the back of his throat and his fingers digging into Liam’s shoulder when he grips harder. It’s not like they haven’t kissed before, too many times for Louis to count now, even sleepily tossed each other off under the shroud of their blanket cave, but it’s been on lonelier nights-- a distraction. It’s never been desperate and meant for an end purpose, never been the thick line of Liam’s cock pressing through his jogging bottoms and against Louis hip, never the spit slick curve of Liam’s lip enticing Louis, making him tug Liam down so he can just _taste_. 

It’s never been Liam so desperate and trying to kiss unspoken words into Louis’ mouth, tugging his clothes out of place and pressing months and months of feelings into his skin with the tips of his fingers.

“You okay now?” Louis whispers in the gap between them, once Liam’s pulled away to catch his breath.

“Yeah, yeah. ‘M okay. Just--” He cuts himself off, the laugh that was caught in his eyes soon dissipates as he gets that determined look again, the darkened eyes and hooded lids and then he’s leaning down, pressing their mouths together. 

It’s so so slow this time. Slow and deep and Liam curling a hand around Louis’ hip, the other just around the base of his neck, thumb light against the jut of Louis’ adam’s apple. Louis hasn’t been kissed like this in forever, hasn’t feel this lightheaded and wanted and he’s overwhelmed, can’t help the whine that presses itself out of his throat and straight into Liam’s mouth. He can’t hold himself back, then, can’t stop himself from wrapping both arms around Liam’s neck and using the leverage to pull himself closer. 

Liam’s mouth is beyond amazing, hot and slick and then he’s opening up, tilting his head and, unlike everything else at this point, tentatively dipping his tongue past Louis’ lips, as if he’s requesting. Asking. _Pleading_. Louis gives into the chase, unable to stop himself when he fucks his tongue into Liam’s mouth, groans when Liam sucks at it in long, languid pulls. 

“Louis, Louis, _Lou_.” He’s babbling, hips tilting so filthy and harsh against each other. Louis has to pull back to just focus for a second, to take in what’s actually happening. 

There’s a hand sliding up his shirt, under the 3 jumpers and his coat, and Liam’s dick is so hard against his, it’s so fucking hot that Louis has to take another breath, unsure of how they got to this point. Although looking back on it now it seems inevitable, occasional shy glances and living in each other’s pockets and needing each other so, so much in every other way that it’s impossible that they wouldn’t want, _need_ each other like this too.

“Want to-- need to--” Cutting himself off, Liam ducks his head down and mouths at Louis’ neck, grazes just the edge of his teeth against the underside of his jaw. “Always taking care of me, Lou. Let me-- let me take care of you. Just this once.” He pauses to suck a biting mark under Louis’ collar, just under the collar of his jumper. “ _Please_.”

Taken aback, Louis hips stutter and he gasps, fingers tangling through Liam’s hair as Liam claims him again, forms another circle shaped bruised on his neck. They’re both panting, both breathless and needy, but Louis feels like he’s definitely lost the upper hand he’s had for so long with Liam. 

He can’t seem to find his words, just muted little groans leaving his mouth as he tries to give Liam some sort of confirmation other than a sloppy wet kiss, teeth digging into Liam’s bottom lip and fingers tugging and pulling at his shirt. Liam gets it though, understands the way that Louis’ thrusts are speeding up, the way he’s completely opening up and laying himself out means ‘ _yes, yes, yes_ ’ and a stressed ‘ _please_ ’ back.

Clothes are strewn across the flat in seconds, Louis left in nothing but his jeans and Liam’s already shucking his joggers off, easy when the elastic is so worn they hang off his hips anyway. The sight is obscene, seeing Liam half asleep and shirtless stumbling towards the bathroom is different to this, to seeing him tower over him with a flush spread up his neck, sparse curls of newly sprouted hair across his chest and more trailing down from his bellybutton. He knows that Liam’s started going for jogs and counting how many push ups he can do whilst he’s waiting for the kettle to boil but he hasn’t paid much mind, been too consumed in everything he’s trying to keep on top of. But it’s hard to ignore right now, with Liam’s stomach flat and toned and the beginnings of muscles defining his biceps and the strong v-line of his hips.

Like this, spread out on their duvet island, Louis feels so, so small in comparison, so overpowered and young and it’s sends a wave of arousal through his body. He wants to cling to Liam, wants to rut against Liam’s tummy, wants Liam to have to hold him down because he’s squirming so much.

It’s embarrassing how much he wants this now, to be the one looked after and held close and he feels ruined already and Liam hasn’t even properly touched him yet, his cock trapped against his fly and catching every time Liam circles his hips. 

There’s tiny goosepimples all over Liam’s skin from the cool air, rough under Louis’ chapped fingers when he runs his hands over his shoulders, down his arms, around his back, feeling the muscles tighten and shift under his palms. Liam shudders under the touch, leans back down to kiss Louis again but it’s more like they’re panting into each others mouth, Louis snugging his knees on either side of Liam’s body, lifting his hips up enough that Liam’s dick is rubbing against his arse instead. It’s unholy the way Liam groans, the vibrations falling straight onto Louis’ tongue and Louis pushes back as Liam fumbles between their bodies, reaches for the button on his jeans.

“Can I-- can we--” Liam dips his fingers under the tight band of his jeans, a question, and Louis presses up to kiss him again, rocks back into him as an answer and Liam groans again, doesn’t even hesitate to undo them, tug them off with Louis’ boxers pulling off with them. It would be mortifying, the way his cock slaps thick and heavy against the slight curve of his belly, if it wasn’t for the way Liam was looking at him, like he’s about two seconds away from losing control and maybe Louis wants that, craves it. 

Even with their bodies pressed together it’s still chilly, making Louis shiver although he’s unsure whether that’s the hand Liam’s trailing just along his hips or the draft from their cracked window. But he shifts them around, tugs Liam under the first blanket he can grab so they’re encased in it, hanging off Liam’s shoulder like a safety net. It’s too close to the times they used to stay up in Louis’ old bedroom, light from Louis’ phone as they sat across from each other, talking about their future life away from everything and everyone and just together. Louis sucks in a deep, sharp breath of air and he can’t slow himself down, can’t stop the way he’s clawing at Liam and sucking his tongue into his mouth, gentle and slow completely out the window.

“Li, shit.” Louis’ voice cracks, it’s the first thing he’s said in ages except for mumbled encouragement and drawn out moans. “Fuck me. C’mon, Liam. Fuck me, fill me up. Need you. Look after me.” 

It takes two crooked fingers inside of him, slicked up with a cheap lotion that Louis had only invested in when his hands started to crack at the seams from all the pot washing at work, to make him completely fall apart. Liam’s fingers are long, thick, much bigger than his and he rocks back into it so easily, so easy for Liam, everything’s so easy between them.

It’s nearly too much. He has to grip at the sheets next to his head to stop himself from pulling himself off right then and it only makes him feel the slightest bit better when he glances down at Liam, sees that his dick is tenting his boxers in the most indecent, delicious way, a hint of a wet spot ghosting the thin material. Louis wants to latch on with his mouth, wants to suck at Liam through them, leave a spit slick trail around the outline of Liam’s chubbed up dick, wants to know what Liam smells like all around him, how he would taste on his tongue. But that’s maybe for later, too far ahead now with Liam’s fingers squelching in and out of him, scissoring him open and punching every stifled noise out of Louis.

“Ready?” Liam asks, his voice quiet as he watches his fingers disappear inside of Louis, get pulled in by him, and Louis can’t do much but moan, continue pushing back against Liam. 

“Yes, yes.” Louis chokes out, impatient. “Now hurry the fuck up.” Liam stills with a startled laugh, eyes crinkling up and it’s so stupid, so dumb that he’s two fingers deep in Louis and giggling like he does at morning cartoons that Louis can’t help but laugh too, arousal still deep in his belly but he feels less wired up now, more relaxed. “Hey, Payno. C’mere.” 

Reacting with only the slightest flinch when Liam pulls his fingers out, Louis guides Liam down with a hand at the back of his neck, kisses him deep and patiently, like he’s been wanting to do all this time, all the the time Liam was knelt over him watching himself finger Louis open with unabashed curiosity. Liam lets him have it for now, rubs their tongues together and kisses him as best as he can manage whilst he’s trying to pull his boxers off with the hand he’s not using to hold himself up. 

Louis fumbles for the lotion, finds it flung across the other end of the sofa bed and he uncaps it with uncoordinated fingers, squirts a handful too much into his palm. Liam finally manages to free his foot from his underwear, pushes Louis’ thighs back so he’s completely exposed, arse raised and stretched hole completely on display. He’d feel uncomfortable, awkward, too vulnerable if it was anyone else. He feels wanted now, though, feels wrapped up and loved up in their blanket cave, Liam running his thumb around Louis puffy rim, dipping the tip of it in as he bites his lip.

“Ready?” Liam repeats, once Louis’ reached down and slicked him up, over generous with the way he’d felt out Liam’s dick, tried to memorise the way it felt hot and heavy and big in his hand. It’d already been slightly wet, droplets of precome blurting from his reddened head as Louis squeezed, just to see the way Liam’s back bowed, choked out moan falling from his raw lips.

“Please.” 

With a hand around the base of his cock and another wrapped around the back of Louis’ knee, spreading him open, Liam rubs the length of his dick along the cleft of Louis’ arse, head catching at his opening, Louis’ heart catching in his throat. And then he’s lining up, pushing in, breaking Louis apart and putting him back together in one slow, steady press of his dick. 

Louis sobs, arches his back off the bed, can’t help it when he feels so full, so stretched, utterly and undeniably complete. His thighs are shaking under Liam’s gripping fingers, sweat pooling at the base of his neck, toes curling in thin air to try and find some sort of leverage. But then Liam’s bottoming out, hips pressed flushed against Louis arse and Louis whimpers, it’s weird and amazing and he’s untightening his fingers from the clutches of the bedding just to curl them around Liam’s neck, to bring them crashing together because he needs the distraction of his lips and teeth and tongue to stop him coming straight away. 

Liam must take that as a sign that he’s ready, starts off with short circles of his hips before he’s pulling out almost completely, stilling for half a second and then dicks into him hard. Crying out, Louis clenches around him, there’s no way he’s going to last longer than a few thrusts, Liam’s relentless with it, hips snapping up, delicious sound after sound coming out of him. He doesn’t know what he’d thought Liam would be like in bed, but it’s definitely not this, definitely not overpowering and gorgeous and absolutely fucking perfect. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis pants out, hand flying down to tighten around the base of his dick, trying to soften the edge of his oncoming orgasm because he’s not done yet, not over feeling Liam pound into him, the way he’s fucking him even faster now, more than Louis thought was possible. It’s not like Louis has handfuls of experience, not much more than a sloppy drunken fondle in some kid’s parent’s bedrooms at a Sixth Form house party. But this must be something else, something fucking incredible because he can barely breathe, barely pull air into his lungs. Liam’s wrecking him and he can’t get enough.

“Takin’ care of you, Lou,” Liam grunts, voice deeper and thick with arousal. “Always do it for me, wanna make you feel as good.”

“Feels so good.” Louis manages, tightens his fingers that little bit more but it’s way, way too late. His feet are tingling and his thighs are numb and he has to start wanking himself off, hand blurring around his dick as he fucks into it and Liam’s watching, lip still caught between his teeth as he bends down, pushes Louis’ legs so his knees are nearly pressed against his chest.

“Come for me, Louis. Come on my dick. Need to see you, want to see you, wanna look after you.” Louis’s coming, ripped out of him and he can feel it from the base of his sweaty neck to the very tips of his toes, hand coaxing his load out, tipping his head back when it splatters on his belly, his chin. 

Slowing down the slightest bit, Liam kisses him, hot and open mouthed and every groan leaving him muffled by their mouths. Louis’ so sensitive, dick twitching pathetically as Liam continues to push into him, his hands falling from the back of Louis’ thighs to bracket his head, to thread his fingers through his hair, long enough from not being able to afford a simple haircut and being untrusting of himself that Liam can bury his fingers in, strands curling around his knuckles.

“Never leave you, Li,” Louis mumbles against his lips, Liam’s jaw clutched in his hands, voice so gone that it’s barely audible. “Just you and me. Always.” 

Liam whimpers, fingers tightening just on the side of painful in Louis’ hair before he’s letting go, hips stilling and body going lax as he comes inside of Louis, fills him up, looks after him.

It doesn’t feel different from any other night when they finally get under the pile of bedding around, except Louis pulls Liam up behind him, lets himself be covered up and curled around, more relaxed than he’s been since they stepped off the all night bus to wherever Liam pointed on the map. Doesn’t feel any different, just another new beginning, another broken piece glued back into place, another step towards everything they deserve.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr post [here](http://wearecities.tumblr.com/post/68257006299/holding-onto-you-for-dear-life-liam-louis)


End file.
